A Most Auspicious Engagement
by JuneMermaid03
Summary: Crown Prince Agdar of Arendelle and Princess Idun of Buckland met for the first time on the day of their betrothal. Two different personalities, but as the Arendellian royal family motto goes, love will thaw. A sort-of prequel/companion piece to my ongoing fic Reach Out to the Truth.
1. Chapter 1

**_NOTE: _**_This is the story of how Elsa and Anna's parents got engaged. Initially, I had named them Alphonse and Emilia, but since the runes on their memorial stone markers showed Agðar (English: Agdar) for the King and Iðunn (English: Idun) for the Queen, I changed their names to those. I made up the name of the kingdom where the Queen came from, though. __Additionally, the phrase below about lying back and thinking about duty was coined from the phrase "close your eyes and think of England". Thank you for reading this and I look forward to your reviews. Lastly, many thanks to nothingnothingtralala for beta-reading this._

**_DISCLAIMER: _**_Frozen is the property of Disney. I do not own anything, except the original characters in this fanfiction. Disney also owns the King and Queen of Arendelle._

* * *

She had prepared for this day ever since she became old enough to understand her duty as the only princess of Buckland—a pawn for her father's political and military ambitions. The King of Buckland was not a bad father—he had promised to find her a good match, but he was an ambitious king first and foremost. As such, Princess Idun had known she would be betrothed at seventeen years old. To whom, however, was a mystery.

Until today.

She was normally an obedient, biddable sort, content to follow orders and be a good girl. Her younger brother, the Crown Prince Richard, was the hellion of the family. There were threats to send him to military school for his rowdy behavior, but then again, he was only eight years old.

Idun decided to borrow some of her younger brother's rebelliousness and sneak downstairs to her father's study. Her curiosity got the better of her; try as she might to remind herself that her duty was for the good of Buckland, she didn't think she could stand it if she got engaged to someone older, like her cousin. She had gotten married last year, and her husband looked like he was older than her by a two dozen years.

Idun cringed. What if her fiancé was at least twice her age? Thirty-four sounded really old. And what if he's fat and balding?

_I don't know if I can lie back and think of Buckland when the time comes for me to do my duty, if my fiancé's like that,_ she thought, glancing around furtively as she made her way to her father's study. The meeting with the visitors from Arendelle had begun an hour ago. She knew she should wait until she was called, but she was dying of curiosity and wanted a glimpse of her would-be fiancé.

Another thought washed over her like cold water—if this betrothal did push through, she would become the queen of Arendelle. _Queen?_ That was a sobering thought. She wasn't even sure she was good enough at being a princess.

_No wonder Papa's keen on marrying me off to the prince, _she realized, her mind racing to recall her geography lessons. He was heir to a prosperous kingdom surrounded by wilderness. King Bertram would have normally ignored a country like Arendelle, but its lush forests and bountiful ice had caught his attention. The timber from Arendelle's forests and ice from its mountains would be valuable to Buckland's steadily growing army. Some tension had sparked between Buckland and Weselton when each country vied for a possible marriage alliance with Arendelle, but Weselton found itself out of the race when its candidate died from a freak accident.

As such, Princess Idun had emerged as the only candidate left. She winced, feeling bad for her former rival and remembering her earlier apprehensions toward her yet-unseen fiancé. _What's his name again? Agdar? Oh no—that sounds like a forty-year-old's name. No, it's positively archaic! He's probably older than Papa!_

_Then again, so's my name,_ Idun realized. _Oh Mama, why did you have to be so fond of Northern stories when you were pregnant with me?_

Shaking off her consternation, she quickened her pace then slowed down as she approached the door of her father's study. Taking a deep breath, she opened the heavy oak doors a crack, hoping that the people inside didn't hear the hinges creaking, and peeked.

Further out into her field of vision was her father, King Bertram—tall and dark-haired, with a closely-cropped beard. He was speaking to a man with copper hair shot with silver around the temples and a neat moustache and goatee—that must be King Raimond of Arendelle. Across King Bertram was a young man with an aristocratic profile, perhaps around twenty to twenty-five years of age. She surmised he must be the Crown Prince Agdar, since his hair was the same shade as King Raimond's.

Idun raised an intrigued eyebrow and decided he didn't look half-bad—handsome, really, even if she thought his nose was a little too big for his face. He carried himself with quiet confidence, and his dark royal uniform, crimson sash, and gray trousers lent a dashing air about him.

So absorbed was she in trying to make out what the men were saying that she never noticed her brat of a brother sneaking up behind her.

"Boo!"

There was a scream of surprise, some cussing, high-pitched hysterical laughter, the pitter-patter of feet, and a crash. It turned out that she had flung open the heavy doors after Richard startled her, and the commotion caused her father to knock over the nearby vase from the Far East that stood as tall as him.

The vase broke.

And there was silence.

Clapping a hand over her mouth, she raised her eyes to see her father with his jaw hanging open at the sight of many broken pieces of porcelain by his feet and King Raimond and his son wearing identical expressions of surprise on their faces.

Idun gulped. Oh boy, she was in HUGE trouble now. As in condemned-to-being-an-old-maid trouble. A small part of her brain that still functioned tried to reassure her that that wasn't so bad.

Right?

Somehow, she found her voice. "Papa, I am so sorry for the interruption," she babbled. "I was just passing by, and then I remembered that—and then—" she gestured helplessly with her hands, feeling doom press more heavily on her as her father's eyes narrowed.

"And then you decided to spy on us," King Bertram finished for his daughter. The meeting had gone smoothly, with the two kings about to finalize their agreement with a handshake.

Until his daughter had caused that unfortunate interruption.

Idun swallowed her fear and looked appealingly at King Raimond and Prince Agdar. She wasn't sure about their expressions—their initial surprise gave way to poker faces—but was that a spark of amusement in the prince's green eyes? She hoped it was.

Agdar felt just as unsure about the girl before him. Her face was flushed with embarrassment from the ruckus she had caused. She was wringing her hands nervously—he could tell she was thinking that she had botched the agreement between their fathers with her spying. Perhaps she felt a mixture of amusement and trepidation—the former because of the way her blue eyes widened comically, almost taking up half her face as she stumbled into the room, and the latter because she seemed unready for the duties of marriage and becoming the future queen of Arendelle.

He, on the other hand, was ready to do his duty as its crown prince. His duty besides becoming a good king was to sire an heir so that the Arendahl line would continue, as it has for over a hundred generations. It was a point of pride for his family and it was a tradition he'd sworn he would not break.

Agdar took his measure of the princess as discreetly as possible. He saw that she was certainly beautiful, with some of her dark hair plaited in a French braid and some flowing freely down her shoulders, clear blue eyes that reminded him of Arendelle's Lake Tor, a delicate nose, and smooth, porcelain skin. She wore a purple high-waisted gown typically worn by young women her age. What of her personality though? Her embarrassment made it hard for him to figure her out, and he was usually good at sizing up someone's personality based on his first impression. He supposed her self-control was lacking, considering what she'd just done. But then again, marriage was a very serious matter and he didn't blame her for being overly curious about it. It concerned the rest of her life, after all. Besides, she was still young. A two-year engagement was more than enough time for her to be molded into the queen he wanted for Arendelle.

It looked like she was starting to recover from her gaffe because the blush on her cheeks was starting to recede. She stood straight and poised, schooling her features into an expression of regret. "My apologies, Papa, Your Majesty, Your Highness, for the disturbance I have caused," she said smoothly after clearing her throat. "I was passing by when I remembered today's significance, and I admit that curiosity got the better of me. I am sorry for acting in a manner not befitting a princess. Rest assured that it will not happen again."

King Bertram sighed. "Let's get this mess out of the way before anything else, all right? Idun, go and have Peter clean this up, please."

"Right away, Papa." With that, Princess Idun curtsied and left the room, her steps hurried yet graceful. Agdar found himself staring after her.

"Where were we? Ah, yes, you were about to give me your answer about a possible betrothal between your son and my daughter. What say you, King Raimond? Shall we seal this accord?"

King Raimond looked at his son. "Well?"

"Yes." Agdar nodded his assent, and then realized belatedly what he'd just done. He was now engaged to Princess Idun of Buckland.

* * *

"You agreed to the engagement quickly enough," King Raimond observed in low, measured tones as soon as the door of Agdar's room swung shut. Because the meeting about the betrothal had ended well, King Bertram had invited the royals of Arendelle to spend a week in his realm. King Bertram had reasoned that it would be a good way for Agdar and Idun to get to know each other a little better before announcing their engagement. "Why?"

Agdar raised his eyebrows. "Because Buckland would be a useful ally to Arendelle," he answered, surprised that his father was asking a question with such an obvious answer. "Aren't you happy we secured an alliance with Buckland? I've always said Arendelle needed strong allies, and Buckland's well on its way to becoming one."

Raimond made a noise of agreement, stroking his goatee. "That you did," he murmured, looking at his son speculatively. "I didn't expect you to agree to marry Princess Idun so readily though, with that mishap. I remember how persnickety you were when we first started looking for possible brides for you. I would have thought you would go for that Weselton girl, may the gods rest her soul. She had a rather sizable dowry, didn't she?"

"Yes." Agdar didn't voice his thought that he felt a little relieved he didn't have to pen a letter explaining why he wasn't going to press his initial suit. He was truly sorry that she died—falling and breaking your neck while sleepwalking was such a bizarre way to go—but the Duke's eagerness at getting his hands on Arendelle's resources and his heir and nephew Lord Beverville's obsequiousness had set his teeth on edge. Weselton was a good trading partner, and no more.

"Agdar," Raimond began, "I do not doubt your instincts—in fact, you've been quite astute whenever I left you to your own devices. I just find it a little out of character for you to make a decision that quickly." Then Raimond smiled slowly, as if an idea just dawned on him. "Oh, but she's a beauty, isn't she?" he said, raising an eyebrow at his son.

Agdar shot his father an exasperated look. "Surely you know it takes more than just a pretty face to turn my head, Father," he retorted.

"Ah, my boy," Raimond chortled, "you may have inherited your mother's mile-wide practical streak, but there's a romantic hiding behind that dutiful façade of yours. Don't even bother denying it because us Arendahls have always been romantics. She was just as persnickety as you, always shooting me down back then, but I won her over eventually. Remember—"

"Yes, yes, our family motto, love will thaw. I know. You've told me hundreds of times how you eventually won Mother's hand. Or should I say, how you wore her down."

"Oh, you wound me, son!" Raimond clutched at his chest exaggeratingly. "You make it sound like my pursuit of your mother was such a bad thing! If it hadn't been for my persistence, you wouldn't even be here right now."

"Touché." Agdar loved and admired his father, but sometimes the over-the-top theatrics got on his nerves. It was precisely King Raimond's gregarious nature that endeared him to Arendelle's populace, along with his common touch. Agdar, knowing he was his mother's son with his seriousness and cautiousness, nevertheless aspired to become a good king like his father. He knew he wasn't going to achieve it the way Raimond did and had decided that his first step in doing so was to have Arendelle allied in some way with a strong country like Buckland.

"On a serious note," Raimond continued, "I don't want you to marry for the sake of duty. I hope you chose Princess Idun because you saw something in her that you liked—and I don't mean her father's troops. Get to know her and decide, with your heart and mind in agreement, if you still want to marry her or not."

"Wouldn't that be inviting Buckland to declare war on us if I break of my engagement with the princess?" Agdar pointed out.

"Well…yes," Raimond admitted. "But if it comes to that, I'm sure I can smooth things over. Bertram may be an ambitious windbag sometimes, but family is important to him. I'm sure he wouldn't do anything that would cause his only daughter misery."

"Thank you," Agdar said dryly. It seemed to go over Raimond's head that he just implied his son would be a bad husband.

Agdar wisely decided to keep his mouth shut to avoid giving his father any more ideas.

* * *

Idun was reading _A Treatise on the History of Arendelle_ when a knock on her door broke her concentration. She had been fully absorbed over the mysterious origins of the family she was going to marry into—oral history and legends said that the gods had blessed the line of Arngrim Arendahl, and as such it remained unbroken. She placed a bookmark on the page she was reading and called out "coming!", groping with her feet for her slippers. "Who is it?"

"It's me."

_Papa._ She swallowed nervously. Surely he wouldn't subject her to a sermon at this time of the night. She glanced at the clock—good, it's already nine in the evening—hurrying to her door and fumbled with the lock.

"Doing some reading?" her father inquired mildly, gesturing at the book she clutched at her chest. She nodded hesitantly.

_Good, he's not mad—at least, I don't think he is,_ Idun thought, searching his face for any hint of displeasure at her behavior earlier.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Oh! Right. Sorry. About this and earlier." She stepped aside to let him in.

King Bertram looked at his daughter closely, examining in her girlish features that were starting to take a more womanly cast. He wondered if he made the right decision in betrothing her with Raimond's boy—as young men, they had talked idly about a possible marriage alliance, but he never thought about it seriously until he saw the potential in it. Idun seemed so young, which she'd highlighted earlier with that stunt she pulled.

As if to prove the point further, Idun started shuffling her feet under Bertram's scrutiny. "Um, Papa?" she prompted hesitantly. "Is there something you wished to speak to me about?"

"Hmm? Ah yes, it's about your engagement with Prince Agdar—"

"I'm sorry for spying on you, I really am! I was just curious what he looked like and how old he was because Agdar was such a stuffy name and I thought he was older than you and I didn't want to marry an old geezer like what Catherine did—"

"Idun." His firm tone put a stop to her torrent of words. "A word of advice: do NOT tell Agdar what you think of his name. At least, not until the two of you have been married for some years and you've already grown comfortable with one another."

"Along with telling him that I think his face still needs to grow with his nose?" she added cheekily to defuse the situation. Without sounding insufferably arrogant, she knew when she could wrap her father around her little finger, and right now there were telltale signs that she could. He had this way of scrunching up his eyebrows when he worried about his children, which gave her the idea that he wasn't angry at her.

"Especially that," Bertram deadpanned, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone. "Anyway, I also wanted to tell you that King Raimond and Prince Agdar will be staying with us for a week, so I expect you to be on your best behavior. I also want you to get to know him a little bit and for you to let him do the same to you. If all went well this week between the two of you, I will announce your engagement."

Engagement. The word rang in her ears. A part of her remained in disbelief that in time, she would be wed to a man she barely knew. Why had she agreed to it? She wasn't a thing to be given away—she was her own person!

"Idun?" Bertram's gentle voice snapped her out of her dark thoughts. "Are you all right?"

Idun took a deep, calming breath before answering him. "No," she said honestly. "It's just starting to sink in that I'm going to be given away to a man I don't even know, to live with him in a place I haven't even been to, like I'm some kind of bargaining chip." She regretted her words when Bertram flinched in response, but that was the awful truth, no matter how much one looked at it.

After an awkward pause, Bertram began to speak. "I don't know how much you heard, but Agdar suggested making this a two-year engagement. It will give you plenty of time to decide if you want to be married to him or not."

"That was considerate of him," Idun commented, sitting on her bed. She sighed, realizing how petulant she must have sounded. "I didn't mean to be whiny about the—my engagement, Papa. I know how important it is for us to be allies with Arendelle, but I just…" she trailed off and bit her lip. She tried to find the words to make her father understand that she understood the implications of her engagement, but she couldn't help that she felt scared despite the years she spent in getting used to the idea. Catherine, two days before her wedding, seemed placid enough to accept her fate. Why couldn't she? She was lucky that Agdar met her initial requirements for a fiancé despite his name and nose.

Bertram sat beside his daughter and took her hands in his, squeezing them reassuringly. He noted how clammy her hands were and felt another pang of uncertainty tug at his heart. He wished his wife was still alive—she had been much better at calming their children's fears. _But this is for their future,_ he thought, trying to convince himself. _A good marriage will give Idun a good future._ He searched for something to say, but she beat him to it.

"Well, I'll make nice with him tomorrow," she said, pulling her hands away. "I've been reading about Arendelle so I'll have something to talk about with him. But what was your impression of him, Papa?"

"He seemed like a nice enough young man," Bertram replied, relieved that they had moved on to a safer topic. "More serious compared to his father though." He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Actually, that might be a good thing—he could be a good balance for you."

"Wow, I didn't think you'd play at being a matchmaker," Idun teased. "Thanks, Papa. I feel a little better about this whole engagement thing." She hugged him, finding comfort at her father's warm, solid arms. She cherished the moment, closing her eyes.

After all, whether she liked it or not, it was only a matter of time before another man would replace the one who held her in his arms.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Note:_**_ Apologies for the delay. There were shakeups at work that sucked my soul dry, leaving me without words. Yeah, going to quit being a drama queen now, but as a heads-up, please expect my updates to be sporadic. I have no idea when things will calm down at work, but I always try to write a couple hundred words every other day. Thank you for reading this, and I look forward to your reviews and constructive criticism. This has not been beta-read, by the way. I have been brushing up on my tenses, but I'm sure some—okay, maybe a lot—slipped through the cracks. So if there's anyone willing to volunteer as tribute—um, beta-read for me to weed out my errors, I would be very grateful._

**_Disclaimer:_**_ Frozen is the property of Disney. I do not own anything, except the original characters in this fanfiction._

* * *

Agdar was a creature of habit. Back home, he always took a brisk walk around the castle before breaking his fast. He was not about to change his routine just because he was a guest of King Bertram; however, to avoid inadvertently insulting his host, he had informed the king after their meeting that he intended to walk around the palace gardens in the morning.

"By all means, Prince Agdar," King Bertram had said. "Consider the palace a second home."

And so, he did.

What he had not intended, however, was to lose his bearings in the palace's long, twisting hallways. He gathered he was in the Hall of Portraits, as it was called back home—obviously, considering how the walls were lined with paintings of Buckland's past rulers. "Blast it, where am I?" he exclaimed in annoyance.

"Better not curse in front of my great-great grandfather William," a feminine voice quipped from behind him. Agdar spun around to see blue eyes sparkling with mirth above a small grin. "He once had a groom whipped when he overheard him saying what you just did."

"Princess Idun," Agdar said, bowing automatically. "What a surprise to see you here."

_Surprise? She lives here, you dolt._

If she had the same thought about his inane statement, she didn't show it. "Good morning," she responded, nodding with a smile. "Do you need any help finding your way around here?"

Agdar shrugged. "I'm afraid so. Buckland Palace is about twice as large as Arendelle Castle, and I have a poor sense of direction to begin with," he admitted self-deprecatingly.

Idun laughed at his admission, and in turn he found himself chuckling along with her. "Where are you going? I could accompany you instead," she offered.

Agdar shook his head. "I have to get back to my room," he said. "I'm due to have breakfast with your father in an hour, and I need to freshen up." Idun frowned quizzically, unsure of his point. "I always take morning walks before breakfast. I walked around your gardens—which are lovely, by the way—but Buckland is warmer than what I'm used to," he explained. "I was able to find my way to the gardens by asking servants for directions as I went along, but I'm having a hard time retracing my steps back to my room."

"Which is why I'm offering to—oh," Idun realized. Agdar watched in mild fascination at the light blush forming along the bridge of her dainty nose. She must have realized the possible implications of her intended action. "Right. Forgive me, Prince Agdar, that was remiss of me."

"Agdar."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Call me Agdar," he clarified with a small, crooked grin. "We are engaged, aren't we?"

"If you call me Idun, I'll call you Agdar. Deal?" she replied with a glint in her eye. He was getting more intrigued with his bride-to-be—prim and proper at one moment, mischievous at the next. Typically he would have dismissed her as flighty, but he had a hunch that she was more than that.

He resolved to know more about her. What hidden depths were there behind her pretty blue eyes? But first, he had to get back to his room.

"Well, Idun, if you would just give me the directions to my room, I will be in your debt," he said with an exaggerated bow. At the back of his mind, he was a little surprised at how silly he was acting. Perhaps she was rubbing off him despite the early stage of their acquaintance. He didn't rise until he heard her giggle at his antics. "I do hate being late," he continued as he straightened.

"Ah, a stickler for punctuality, are you? Alright, getting to your room from here is easy enough. Just go straight ahead, turn left, straight again, then left. You'll know you're close when you're in a hallway with a statue of a Valkyrie at the end—I call her Bertha. Anyway, once you reach Bertha, turn right. You should be in the west wing where your room is located," she directed.

"So…left, straight, left, straight towards Bertha, then right?" he confirmed.

Idun nodded. Agdar muttered the directions to himself before responding with a nod of his own. "Alright. I hope to see you at breakfast, Idun. Perhaps later you can show me around the palace so I wouldn't lose my way again."

"I'll be more than happy to do so."

A sudden urge to see her smile or blush overcame him, so he took her hand and brushed a light kiss across her knuckles. "Until then."

Sure enough, Idun's face was suffused with pink at his courtliness. "Um…yes."

Agdar turned and walked away, feeling a light spring in his step. _It looks like I made the right choice,_ he thought, smiling at the recollection of his encounter with Idun.

Walking faster, he hurried to his room, looking forward to breakfast.

* * *

_He's looking at me. Why is he looking at me like that? Do I have something stuck in my teeth?_ Idun ran her tongue over her teeth as surreptitiously as she could, keeping her eyes on her plate. She recounted what she had for breakfast—sausage, two pieces of toast, some scrambled eggs, some salad, and a cup of hot chocolate. A perfectly balanced meal made up of meat, greens, and bread. _Is he...is he judging me because I finished everything on my plate? _she thought self-consciously._ Because if he is, I...I don't want to be engaged to him anymore. I'll tell Papa to break the engagement off. I don't care how ridiculous it sounds, I will not let anyone, not even the crown prince of Arendelle, to judge me based on what and how much I eat!_

Idun viciously stabbed the last piece of sausage on her plate with her fork and placed it in her mouth, chewing it as defiantly as she could without breaking dining etiquette. She risked a glance at Agdar, who looked startled at her sudden hostility toward her food. He raised his eyebrows as if to ask what the poor sausage had done to rouse her ire. Trying to school her face into an impassive mask was quite hard for someone as expressive as her to do; she was sometimes successful when she did her best, but based on how her face felt now, she guessed she looked like she swallowed something sour.

"Idun, darling, are you all right?" her father asked. "You look like you ate something that didn't agree with you."

"On the contrary, Papa, I loved what Chef Nathan had prepared. See? I've finished everything on my plate," Idun replied sweetly. _I dare you to say something about my appetite, Prince Prissypants. I DARE YOU_.

But instead, it was King Raimond who did so, with a wide, approving grin. "In Arendelle, a healthy appetite is very much appreciated, Princess. Isn't that right, Agdar?"

"Ah, yes, quite," he responded, nodding at Idun with a tentative smile. "The meadow outside the city gates is perfect for picnics. Families usually gather there on Sundays after church." He paused, as if to gauge her reaction. "Perhaps we can go on a picnic when you visit Arendelle," he suggested.

Idun blinked, flabbergasted at the unexpected thing he said. She felt her cheeks flaming at her earlier assumptions toward Agdar. _I'm such an idiot,_ she thought, mentally kicking herself. _Why did I overreact like that? He was really nice at the Portrait Hall earlier—even kissed my hand! Nobody's EVER kissed my hand. He's the first man to kiss my hand._ _Would he be the last?_

That thought made her cheeks burn even hotter. She cleared her throat and patted her mouth with her napkin to ignore the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. "That sounds wonderful, Prince Agdar."

"I look forward to it, then."

She couldn't tear her gaze away from his jade green eyes—he was looking at her intently, as if they were the only people in the room.

But of course, as bratty younger brothers are wont to do, Richard ruined the moment by scrunching up his face and making kissing noises. "Oooh, that sounds wooooonderful, Prince Agdar! Kiss me! Mwah!"

Idun's left eye twitched at her brother's irritating behavior. "I'm going to count to three, _Richie_," she said in a dangerously even voice, her face settling into a calm mask as she fixed him a flat stare. "If you're not out of that chair by then, I'm going to throttle you very hard, do you understand?"

"Oooh, I'm sooooo scared!"

"One."

"I'm shaking!"

"Two."

"Richard. You're excused," Bertram said firmly, giving his son a warning look. "Now."

Richard grinned and ran out of the dining room while father and daughter let out identical sighs. "I am sorry for my son's behavior. I'm afraid he's at that age," Bertram apologized.

Idun rolled her eyes. "Yes," she agreed. "He can be somewhat civilized around other people—well, except me, probably because I'm his older sister."

Agdar chuckled at her observation. "Is that what younger brothers do, then? Annoy older sisters endlessly?"

"Pretty much. Don't you have siblings?"

"I'm an only child."

"Lucky you."

Agdar shrugged. "I suppose, but it can get lonely sometimes. I've always wondered what it'd be like to have a younger sibling."

Idun leaned toward him with a serious look on her face, though her eyes were dancing with amusement. "Then let me make you an offer you can't refuse—adopt my brother, please. I assure you that he's housebroken."

Agdar raised his eyebrows. "You're joking, aren't you?"

"I'm perfectly serious. I know he's your heir, Papa," she said, turning to Bertram, "but I'm sure Richard and Agdar would get along quite nicely if he's adopted by Arendelle. He can come back here when he's older. I mean," she turned to her fiancé, "Richard could use some lessons on politeness from you." She flashed him a what she hoped was a flirtatious smile.

Agdar raised an eyebrow and played along. "If I do end up adopting your brother, he'll still be family, although he'll be your brother-in-law," he pointed out, the corner of his mouth trembling from holding back his laughter at their silly exchange. He held her gaze for a few moments until she blinked and started giggling. Agdar was able to maintain a neutral expression but gave up after a minute, laughing as well.

Had they paid more attention, they would have noticed their fathers exchanging satisfied looks at how swimmingly they were getting along. King Bertram's and King Raimond's one thought was etched clearly on their faces.

This was turning out to be a most auspicious engagement indeed.

* * *

Later that afternoon, the betrothed couple found themselves having tea in a gazebo at Buckland Palace's expansive gardens. Agdar had told Idun that while he did not mind tea, he preferred coffee. "I developed a taste for it during university," he explained, taking a sip of his tea. "I was quite a bookworm, staying up late at night poring over any book that caught my fancy."

"Is that so? What subjects were you partial to?"

"Well..." Agdar hesitated. "It's rather boring, I suppose, to other people, but I had found the order and logic of geometry to be quite fascinating, especially how it made nature beautiful." He paused, looking at her a little uncertainly. He was rather sure geometry was not something most girls are interested in, but her patient, friendly silence encouraged him to continue. "For instance, the Fibonacci sequence—well, first let me explain what it is—"

"It's a series of numbers in which each number is the sum of the two numbers before it, right?"

"Yes! Do you like geometry too?" Agdar asked eagerly, leaning toward her. Idun laughed and waved her hand in denial.

"I'm competent at arithmetic, but I can't say I'm as passionate about mathematics as you are," she said. "I looked up what the Fibonacci sequence meant when I was twelve years old after losing a one-up contest to this snotty niece of a visiting duke." She swirled the contents of her cup thoughtfully. "I remember looking up all sorts of trivia related to the Fibonacci sequence, vowing to crush her with my superior intellect, but I never had the chance to do so." She set her cup down and pinned him with a scrutinizing look. "You knew her. Her uncle had approached you for a possible marriage alliance."

_Weselton's niece,_ he realized. "Ah…yes. May the gods grant her soul peace," he said awkwardly.

Idun bit her lip uncertainly, appearing to gather her nerve. "Agdar, I…I'm sorry to be straightforward in asking this, but if she hadn't died, would you still have chosen me over her? I may be a royal princess, but in terms of wealth, Weselton is richer than Buckland. Surely it would have been more advantageous for you to pick her over me. Well, if things hadn't turned out the way it did for her." She shook her head, her face reddening in embarrassment. "Forget I asked, that was very inappropriate, and I shouldn't have questioned you."

Agdar shook his head too. "I learned from my parents that honesty is one of the keys to a lasting marriage," he began. "I know we're not married yet, but as early as now, I promise to be honest with you." Idun's eyes widened at his declaration—she clearly did not expect any promises so early in their engagement, and a part of him was puffed up with pride at her reaction. "To answer your question, yes, Weselton was the logical choice, but her uncle's avarice had put me off. I did not want to be allied that closely with people like him. Weselton is a good trading partner, but that's it." He paused to watch her reaction at his admission. She remained quiet, sensing there was more. Agdar took another sip of his tea and cleared his throat to continue.

"Arendelle decided to try to ally itself with Buckland because of its military. My country is vast, but most of it is wilderness made up of forests and snowy mountains—we have a small population compared to yours and Weselton's, and if we were invaded, we will be crushed. I had asked for your hand in marriage with that in mind."

"…Oh."

That one word pricked at his conscience. Agdar knew his reason for pursuing her hand was far from the romantic notion girls of Idun's age would have dreamed about, but he had promised her honesty. He licked his lips nervously—he had a feeling that his next words would make or break the new and suddenly fragile friendship he had formed with Idun. He reached across the table and grasped her hands, looking straight into her eyes, and hoped she found him sincere. "I had thought I would have a typical engagement arranged for me—that I would find myself with a bride-to-be that I would have, at best, a tepid relationship with. But after speaking with you for the first time this morning, and at breakfast, I found myself hoping that maybe, just maybe, I will have more than that with you, if we get married."

It wasn't exactly a declaration of love, but Agdar didn't think it was in him to fall in love at first sight. He was a believer in logic and reason, and they told him that he needed to get to know her better to see how they would suit in terms of personality and temparament. It was a huge step for him to tell her he hoped that love will grow between them eventually, or at least, a strong relationship built on trust and friendship. Yes, it was less than what he had seen with his parents, but definitely more compared to the rest of the royal engagements and marriages he had heard about.

He waited with bated breath for her reaction, and let it out when she gave him a small, tentative smile. "Thank you for your honesty, Agdar," she said quietly, looking down at their joined hands, her hair hiding her eyes. "I will try my best to be the perfect wife for you."

He shook his head. "No," he murmured, tipping her chin up so he could see her. She kept her eyes downcast. "Idun, please, look at me." She finally raised her gaze, and he wanted to drive away the insecurity he saw lurking within the blueness of her eyes. "Don't be anything other than who you are," he said gently, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. "It doesn't become you."

"Who am I to you, then? You've known me for less than a day."

_Tread carefully,_ an inner voice advised. _You're not out of the woods yet. _"You have a point there," he agreed. "But I'm hoping to learn more about the girl I met at the Hall of Portraits this morning. I found her to be quite charming and spirited, and I wonder if there's more to her than meets the eye."

Idun smiled wryly, pulling her hands away from his. "So does she."

It was the opening he was hoping for. "Why do you say that?"

She sighed, a frown creasing her brow. She muttered something indistinct before taking a deep breath through her nose. "Sometimes I wonder if I could be more than just the Princess of Buckland. I know my duty is to marry well for my family's honor and my country's benefit, and once I'm married I have to produce an heir and a spare for my husband—but what about me? What about what I want? That sounds selfish—and the funny thing is, I don't even know what I want."

"Do you feel you're being forced into this engagement, then?" Agdar probed gently. He ignored the sense of alarm growing in his chest—what if she didn't want to be engaged at all? Much as he wanted Idun to be his wife for the good of his country, he didn't have it in him to marry an unwilling bride. He braced himself for her answer as she bit her bottom lip thoughtfully.

"No," Idun finally said. "A part of me wants this engagement too, because I'm happy that I'm useful somehow. That I'll have roles to fulfill later on. Mother to our children, queen to Arendelle...roles which, frankly, scare me and make me wonder why I want more when I'll probably have my hands full with those." She threw up her hands in mild exasperation. "In fact, I should probably count myself lucky I'm engaged to you—you were much better than what I had expected," she blurted, blushing when she realized what she had just said.

Agdar's curiosity was piqued. "Oh? And what did you expect?"

"Forget I said anything."

"Oh no, you can't expect me not to say anything after that. Come on, out with it—I promised you honesty, remember?" he wheedled.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Papa had warned me not to tell you this, but when I learned my fiance's name was Agdar, I thought I was going to be engaged to a man as old as my grandfather," she admitted grudgingly. "I was relieved to find out you were only twenty-two. Then I realized my name was just as archaic as yours."

"I may be young in age, but my father always told me I'm much too serious," he said. Something sparked in Idun's eyes even though she kept her face straight.

"You're not serious, are you?"

"I just told you I am too serious for my own good, and now you ask me if I'm not serious?" He paused for a beat, catching on her train of thought. "Seriously?"

They stared at each other for a few seconds before laughing. "All right, but seriously—and that is hopefully the last time I'll use that word this afternoon—I think we suit each other very well, at least at this stage of our acquaintance. I feel at ease with you, and I only count very few people who make me feel that way. For you to do that in less than a day...I would say that bodes well for our future, doesn't it?"

"I suppose," Idun agreed, still a little skeptical.

"You will have the final say, Idun," Agdar said quietly. "If you do not feel comfortable enough to marry me, we can call off the engagement. You have my word that I will not force you to do something you don't want to do. And I will make sure that it will be known that you were the one who broke things off, so you will not encounter any difficulties later on if that would happen. But I hope it won't have to come to that."

"Thank you. That was very considerate of you, Agdar."

They fell into a comfortable silence. "Well, since we're trying to get to know each other a little better, what do you say we spend the rest of the afternoon quizzing each other?" Idun suggested.

"About what?"

"Anything you can think of. Like..." Idun pursed her lips. "What's your favorite food?"

"Chocolate. You?"

"I'm crazy about strawberries."

"Dip that in chocolate and I promise you heaven."

"Really? We'll have to try that sometime, then. Okay, what's your most embarrassing moment?"

"You just had to ask that, didn't you?"

"Hey, no answering a question with another question. Honesty, remember?"

And so on, and so forth.

This girl made him smile—he couldn't remember a day he had ever smiled and laughed so much, and over the most unexpected things. From this day on, he would always think of the word 'serious' as funny. She made him chatty—if his father saw him now, talking animatedly with his hands waving about, he would say "who are you, and what have you done to my son?"

This girl made him do things that he normally would not. But that wasn't the last un-Agdar thing he did before the day ended.

Before the day ended, he found himself cupping this girl's cheek tenderly with his hand to kiss her, thinking, _This girl…this incredible, wonderful girl…_

Agdar knew he was out of his depth when it came to romance, but he was sure of one thing: that he will do everything he can not to let Idun go.

Because before the day ended, he was already in love with this girl.


End file.
